Growing Up
by Ditsyjo
Summary: a sort of sequel to my story It Makes Perfect Sense... a few random glimpses as Nate grows up.
1. Chapter 1

"What do you think?" a fresh out of college nurse asked too eagerly, nodding to the file in Angela's hand "did the dad do it?"

"The boy's father is here?" she asked

"Yeah he's in there… probably coaching the kid on what not to say." The girl smirked knowingly.

"You don't want to do that Cynthia."

"Do what?"

"Assume… you know what they say… assume and you make and a** of you AND me." She knew to most trauma nurses, a ten year old claiming a fall to explain their injuries set off alarm bells, thoughts of abuse floating to the forefront of their minds… and staying there until proved otherwise. Angela Collins though knew better than to make assumptions like that. The loss of her job at a level one trauma center and a six month suspension of her nurse's license two years ago had taught her to never assume you know the circumstance. So she read the file with a neutral expression…the child had several possible injuries including potential ankle and arm fractures. Angela frowned… the boy must have been pretty high. Squaring her shoulders and plastering a reassuring smile on her face, the older nurse pulled the curtain of the exam cubical back. She stopped short. The boy was small for his age and sat painfully stiff on the table… tears lingered in his eyes, his cheeks were pale and tense with pain but a small smile graced his lips as he watched his father who sat in the rigid chair by the bed. His back was turned to her but she still didn't miss the flourish as he made a scarf disappear. The child's smile widened with delight.

"Hello Nathen" she began" so what happened this afternoo…" her voice faded abruptly as the boy's dad turned to face her…that face… she would never forget the last time she saw that face… pale and bruised… barely breathing after her assumptions nearly killed him. Angela never pictured Caffrey as a father but he seemed to be an extremely competent one… assumptions she reminded herself as the clear blue eyes regarded her thoughtfully. Her breath caught, if the man recognized her… he smiled suddenly, no recognition, only concern in his gaze.

"Nate why don't you explain to the nurse what exactly you were doing?" the man's tone carried a perfect mixture of disbelief, reproof and amusement.

"Ph̀x…" the child pleaded but the older blue eyes pinned him with a gently stern look.

"Go on…" he urged

"I was climbing down…" his voice sank to a mumbled as his eyes dropped to the floor.

"What was that sweet heart?" she asked, this time childish blue eyes met hers with a mischievous glint around his pain and fear.

"I was trying to climb down from Ph̀x's balcony…"

"Oh you were… you must have been pretty high still when you fell"

"About fifteen feet up" his dad supplied. " the balcony is on the third floor."

"I see…" her gaze darted to the man sitting beside the bed "may I ask… Why?" her look returned to the boy…

"Uncle Mozzie has been teaching me free running and how to scale a wall… I wanted to impress him"

"And I'm fairly certain he didn't want you to try it unsupervised right now."

"Probably not." The child shifted uncomfortably, his eyes dropping, pain obviously flaring.

"Is there anything else Moz might be teaching you while I'm at work." The man's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I asked him to show me how to pick a lock."

"Why?" Caffrey frowned, worry evident.

"So I can't be locked in again." Angela noticed the look that passed between father and son, she knew there was a story there but Angela Collins learned two years ago not to pry….

"Alright Nathen let's take you to get those x-rays taken." She said with a smile… a smile that, she was proud, didn't slip in the slightest.

Two hours later she watched the little boy hobble out, his broken ankle in a fluorescent green cast and his sprained right wrist tightly wrapped. His father hovered anxiously over him as they left. Angela smiled, the man had refused to leave the boy's side through the whole process…wincing each time his son did.

"So Angela," the young nurse appeared at her elbow "you let him leave with his dad…"

"Yes I did."

"You know he'll probably be back…"

"Probably, he's practicing free running and climbing walls." The girl raised her eyebrows and Angela grinned but her eyes remained serious. "I will warn you again about those assumptions…"

 **Author's note: This is not intended to be a cohesive story and I don't plan to update on a set schedule... just as the ideas come to me. I have an actual sequel to It Makes Perfect Sense but I'm not sure I should post it... the ending is not exactly happy**


	2. Chapter 2

Neal studied the little boy curled up in the bed. Flushed cheeks, warm face… the thermometer read 101.5. By all appearances Nate was sick. The young man frowned slightly, Kim warned him Nate had been sick often the last few weeks. For one moment concern for his son clouded his mind. Then he caught the steam rising from the glass of water on the night stand, and the odd angle the pillow lay and finally most of all the desperately hopeful glimmer in bright blue eyes that the ten year old tried to hide behind a rather convincing cough.

Attempting rather badly to cover his amusement. Neal watched the boy for a moment more before he spoke.

"Sick huh?" he asked. The boy nodded "I'm sure the hot water you have been drinking and the heating pad under your pillow have nothing to do with your temperature…"

"Ph̀x… I…I…"

"You're not sick Nate." Even Neal couldn't hide his smile at Nate's expression "and I doubt you have been sick at all lately have you?"

Big blue eyes dropped to his blanket "I was the first time…but…" he sounded so pitiful that his father found his anger dissipating…

"What's really going on, Nate… why are you conning your parents into thinking you are sick?"

"I just don't want to go to school, that's all" there was a sulk in the voice. "There's a test in math today…" his voice trailed off under Neal's disbelieving frown.

"I happen to know you are very good at math. Someone is giving you a hard time,right?" he really didn't need to see the boy's reluctant nod to know. Neal remembered being a smart boy, small for his age and not much of a fighter, all too well.

"Jonathan Myers" the boy's voice was tiny "He told my whole class I was a thief, that my whole family is thieves and we should all be locked up. Now no one will talk to me and every time I walk past he make a huge show of moving all of his things out of my reach and everyone laughs. Miss Wilson even smiles when she doesn't think I see." Neal had been listening in sympathetic silence until the last sentence. Fury swept through his veins at the idea of the teacher not only allowing the cruelty but being amused by Nathen's humiliation. He tucked the anger away for the moment regarding the boy.

"So what you are saying is you need a mental health day today…"he grinned

"A what?"

"A mental health day… a day off to, as Mozzie says, regain your mental balance."

"I can do that?"

"I'll tell you what. I'll let you take an occasional day off if you stop trying to pretend to be sick."

"Yes Ph̀x." His eyes sparkled with mischief even as he conceded

'I have to go into the office for a little while but I'll try to get home early so we can do something fun. Don't give June a hard time."

"I would never give her a hard time." The boy grinned innocently. Neal sighed "don't climb the walls... or try to juggle her china." He rubbed the child's head affectionately. Two steps… he took two steps before he turned back "he's wrong you know." Nate's head came up "That boy at your school he's wrong. Kim and Ryan are wonderful people who love you very much, enough to throw away their whole lives to protect you. Jonathan Myers would be lucky to have parents like that." The little boy's smile lit up the room.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

"Amy Wilson?" the teacher looked up from the papers she was grading, at the man's voice from the doorway.

"Yes that's me?" she smiled but he remained grave, brown eyes regarding her intently.

"I wanted to talk to you about Nathen Bryant"

"Oh I see." Her eyes darkened a bit at the thought of the boy. That child was definitely headed for trouble, over confident and mischievous he would have been a handful under any circumstances… but given his parents' disregard for right and wrong sadly she knew the path his future would take. "And you are?"

"Peter Burke FBI."

"Nathen is in some kind of trouble?"

"You could say that." His frown deepened "I hear he is being bullied… and the adult in the room is doing nothing about it."

"Now wait just one moment…" she blustered in shock. An FBI agent was dressing her down for the way she managed her class room. "Nathen has not been hurt in any way."

"Oh yes" the man countered anger flashing in his eyes "I'm sure having false accusations thrown at him daily is just great for him. I'm sure his teacher allowing him to be teased constantly about his parents' actions just because she has decided Jonathan Myers is a more deserving student does wonders for a ten year old's self-esteem." Amy frowned… after all Nathen's self-esteem was high enough in her opinion.

"Mr. Burke you don't have all the facts… you have no idea the struggles Jonathan is dealing with at home… yes I cut him some slack in the class room because he has enough pressure when he leaves. His father can be quite…"

"I am well aware of Mr. Adam Myers and his demanding nature."

"Then you understand-."

"I understand Miss Wilson that Nathen was kidnapped two years ago, locked in a pitch black room alone for a week with no food and barely enough water to survive, I understand that his adopted parents were driven to a desperate theft to raise an impossible ransom. I understand that his biological father was nearly murdered… twice by the kidnapper. That his biological mother is dead. That Nathen witness a man murdered who was trying to protect him. I understand that he is a strong sensitive brilliant boy… and my best friend's son and he does not deserve to be treated like the scum on the bottom of your shoe."

"I wasn't aware of-." The revelation was startling actually, Nathen did not strike her in anyway, as a child who had suffered that kind of trauma.

"Of course you weren't, Nathen doesn't ask for special favors because of his 'pressures at home" he glared at her before he drew a deep breath "But this is me asking nicely please stop allowing him to continue to be victimized… he's been hurt enough." Amy Wilson nodded wordlessly. The tall man turned on his heal and strode from the room with one last warning look.

As she rose to leave an hour later Amy noticed a plump elegant woman watching her from the door way.

"Excuse me," the woman said gently "Miss Wilson?"

"Yes that is me?" there was some trepidation in her voice as the well-dressed woman stepped back to allow her to pass with a flourish

"After you Miss Wilson" she smiled gently

"Can I help you Ms.…?"

"Ellington, June Ellington." She smiled again but her eyes were sad "I understand my little Nathen is having some trouble in your class."

"Nathen Bryant? Yes I have been made aware of the situation."

"Excellent and I assume you are going to set things right, my dear."

"It is being dealt with appropriately."

"Excellent… see that it is Miss Wilson, see that it is." Despite her kind tone Amy thought she saw an edge of steel in the woman's eyes "Nathen is a darling boy I can't stand the thought of anyone hurting him."

"I understand."

"Well then, thank you for your time. I must be off." With one last smile she moved gracefully away.

Walking to her car Amy pondered the two encounters she had in the last hour. Her mind on the bizarre incidents she didn't notice the small bespeckled man that fell in step with her until he cleared his throat loudly.

"Can I help you Mr.…"

"My name is not important. All you need to know is that I find your lack of concern for the well fare of your students… disturbing."

"Excuse me?"

"Nathen Bryant… you will insure he is treated properly."

"Oh I will?"

"If I hear that he is being tormented again and you are complacent to his persecution… I have contacts who may find it necessary to make your life difficult." Coming from such an odd little man that declaration should have seemed ludicrous but the eyes that peered up at her through thick glasses were deadly serious and she found herself quailing under that rigid gaze… "Do we understand each other Miss Wilson?"

"Yes? I think so."

"Excellent." He nodded briskly "I'm glad that is resolved" he glanced away and the teacher followed his gaze with her own eyes for a moment. When she turned back the little man was gone. Simply vanished. When her phone rang and Nathen's father politely requested a parent teacher conference to discuss Nathen's concerns… she couldn't help asking.

"Are you planning to bring your warm up committee?"

Her only answer was a rather confused sounding "What?"


	3. Chapter 3

"I let the free running go, even after he broke his ankle." Neal studied his friend frustration clear on his features. "I understand why you taught him to pick locks… Even encouraged him. The magic tricks I get… they are just fun," he paced away taking a deep breath "But I have to draw the line at picking pockets…" he tried to keep his voice low, so the boy on the terrace didn't hear him.

"But Neal he is sooo good at it, I don't think you understand how naturally it comes-."

"No. Moz you are my friend… one of my best friends but I won't let you make my eleven year old son into a thief."

"You're a thief… the best in the business."

"That doesn't mean-."

"His mother was a thief."

"Moz…"

"Even his adopted parents are thieves when they get desperate… albeit not very good at it…"

"Mozzie stop!" his voice rose to almost a shout.

"I'm just saying it's in his blood… and Neal his hands are so quick. With proper training they could be quicker than yours."

"And what's next… you teach him to lift a piece from the MET."

"He would be great at it."

"I know you mean well, but please…" the older man almost froze at the pleading tone in his friend's voice.

"You really don't want him to learn survival skills."

"I want better for him Moz… an honest life, a real future. College, a job, a wife and kids and a dog… please don't teach him to be me."

"What if he's not cut out for that life?" he peered up at the younger man through his glasses gravely.

"He will be… have you seen the talent he has." He gestured at the easel the kid was working at "His legitimate work could be hanging in the MET someday. I can't let my past take that away from him."

"Ok" the little man relented "Ok fine, but you should know… he asked me to teach him."

"Why?"

Mozzie shrugged

"He said something about a girl. Lindsey… something."

Neal smiled at his friend's belated attempt at protecting his son's privacy.

"Lindsey who? We both know you haven't forgotten…"

"I won't snitch." The smaller man declared defiantly

"I'm his father not the warden."

"Is there much difference?" he stopped as Neal rolled his eyes a flicker of apology in his gaze "Wilson."

"Lindsey Wilson? I assume he thought this would impress her?"

"You really need to have a talk with him about girls…" Mozzie waved his hands helplessly

"I will."

"Let him know they are nothing but trouble." Neal chuckled as his friend drifted away to his wine selection, his coat jingling softly as he moved.

With a sigh he stepped out on the balcony. Leaning against the wall Neal watched the boy paint for several long seconds.

"So you want to tell me about Lindsey Wilson… and how exactly you thought picking her pocket would impress her?" Nate jumped slightly at the question. He hesitated to answer… clearly weighing his options.

"Not **_her_** pocket, Ph̀x… see there's this guy…"


	4. Chapter 4

In the beginning he never pictured taking the anklet off Neal for good. When they first made the deal he expected the younger man to cut the thing and run. Then as the months passed Peter began to imagine the possibility he just might make it. He pictured bending over to unfasten the device like he had a hundred times before. A smile and a congratulations. Maybe there would be a cake, then they would all go home… and that would mostly likely be the last time he saw his friend. Peter was certain the moment Neal walked out of the building a free man he would vanish and never come back. Sure there would be post cards and gifts from his travels… an invitation to his wedding, maybe, if he met the right one, but the thought that he would stay seemed remote. Even when Neal talked about staying Peter didn't quite believe him.

Then Nate happened. In a dozen ways he was a mini Neal, but he brought out the best tendencies in Neal. The young man was always protective of kids…with Nate that was multiplied ten-fold. Neal was smart but the kid kept him on his toes. Painting with his ten year old son resulted in more original works and fewer copies. Striving to set a good example for the boy, his work at the bureau had never been better… or more inside the lines.

So now holding the anklet key for the last time Peter met his friend's eye and smiled. Neal leaned back in his chair, propping his foot up on the desk and grinned, then glanced over his shoulder at the small figure hovering a few feet from his chair. Nate shot him a thumbs up and a bright smile. Peter noticed the boy was nearly vibrating with more excitement than a ten year old should have about a prisoner release.

"Any plans once you're a free man?"

"I'm going to take Nate on vacation."

"Anywhere interesting?"

"I was thinking Disneyland."

"Really?"

"What?"

"Your first act as a free man is going to be Disneyland… it's just not something I expected. So California?"

"Paris." Neal's grin broadened "I thought he might enjoy some of the culture as well… and it gives him a chance to practice his French on someone other than me."

"Of course you are going to France." He hesitated. "What are your plans long term?"

"I'll be looking for a job I guess." He shrugged. "But vacation first… the rest will sort itself out." His eyes sparkled mischievously.

"I'm sure it will. You planning to celebrate tonight?"

"Yeah there's this pizza place Nate loves… you are welcome to join us."

"Pizza and Disneyland how the mighty have fallen."

"Gourmet pizza and Disneyland Paris."

"Neal Caffrey does dad with style?"

"Is there any other way?"

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Peter sighed as his eyes fell on the empty desk when he walked passed it on his way to his office that morning. Three weeks since he set his best friend free… three weeks of an office that was to quiet, of no word from a man who might be using his vacation as a front to rob Versailles. He rubbed his hands over his face and got back to work. He didn't dwell on Neal's absence, but he couldn't help wondering occasionally if he would ever see him again.

Stepping into the breakroom two hours later he stopped short.

"What are you doing here?" he asked the slim figure lounging against the wall.

"I work here." Neal chuckled at his shocked expression.

"You worked here before your vacation."

"Signed the papers as a freelance consultant at nine this morning."

"Freelance?"

"Part time deal. On a case by case basis."

"Are you working a case today?"

"You tell me? You have anything interesting… because I don't do the boring ones anymore."

"Of course you don't? How much are we paying you?"

"Trust me Peter you don't want to know."

"I really don't. I'll bet it's a lot more than 700 a month though."

"You would win that bet. I do have a son to support… you know Manhattan prep isn't cheap." Peter shook his head but he couldn't resist the laugh.

"You better stay on the straight and narrow… because it would be too easy to catch you if you work here."

"Don't worry I would make it a challenge." The blue sparkle glinted at him "Hypothetically speaking of course."

"Of course."

"I have responsibilities now." His face was serious in a heartbeat. "And I don't take them lightly Peter."

"I know you don't."

"I'm out of the life… at least until Nate is eighteen." Peter chose not to take the bait, settling instead for shaking his head and clasping the younger man's shoulder for a moment.

"It's good to have you back. So Nathen liked Disneyland?"


	5. Chapter 5

The ringing phone startled him from his reading, Neal frowned as he answered.

"Ph̀x?"

"Nate? What's going on?" he glanced at the clock quickly …9:30. "I thought you had that dance tonight?" He said it casually as if Nate calling an hour and half into his 8th grade formal didn't set off all of his paternal alarms.

"I did. Can you come get me?"

"What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The boy's voice cracked slightly. Neal would have loved to blame it on his son's fourteen year old hormones, but… "I just want to get out of here and I don't want to call mom and dad."

'I'll be right there."

When his cab pulled up in front of the school Neal didn't even have to get out before he recognized the hunched figure of his son leaning against a sturdy pillar. The boy's whole being radiated misery as he climbed into the car. His suit was rumpled and dirty, sporting a small tear at the elbow.

Neal let the silence linger as they rode several blocks.

"If you want to talk about it…" he offered gently

"I'd rather not." The boy returned quietly.

They arrived home in unbroken silence. Neal led the way upstairs as Nate followed sluggishly. Forcing himself to stroll to the refrigerator, the man pulled out a bottle of wine for himself and a soda for his son and waited. Nate sipped at the can slowly staring moodily at the counter. The quiet stretched on for a short eternity, while the boy traced pictures in the condensation on his drink.

"Ph̀x?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever been dumped?"

"Couple of times, yeah." Neal breathed a sigh of relief. This he could deal with.

"Does it always s*** this much?"

Neal chuckled a bit "Pretty much"

"I really liked Taylor."

"I know… you told me yesterday how beautiful her eyes were. What happened?"

'I went to get her a drink, when I came back she was kissing Randal Cunningham. I thought…" the boy sighed "I tried to pull him away from her."

"I see…"

"He pushed me down and Taylor laughed." His shouldered slumped even farther "she left with him."

"I'm sorry, Nate"

"I hate girls."

"That is a pretty nasty breakup, but not all girls are like that."

"Why did she even go to the dance with me if she didn't like me?"

"Dating is complicated."

"Girls are complicated."

"No, they aren't, not really. They just seem that way."

"No kidding."

"You have to be confident."

'I was confident. I walked up to her last week and told her she was going to the dance with me. She blushed and said ok."

"You told her?"

"Yeah. Like you told me 'Be confident she will say yes"

"But you still ask, Nate…"

"Oh. Then it's my fault she dumped me?"

"I don't know. I do know respect goes a long way with most girls."

"I messed up." The boy looked even more dejected.

"It's ok… like I said it's complicated… you'll figure it out." He offered his son a small smile.

"Thanks, doesn't make getting dumped any easier, though."

"Nope… there's not much I've found that does…except time." Neal smiled softly "At least she doesn't have a sniper rifle."

"What?!"


End file.
